You Never Know Where You'll Find It
by MadAboutRon
Summary: One of my longer stories about Ron and Hermione's daughter at school
1. Muggle Airports

You Never Know Where You'll Find It  
  
Chpt 1: Muggle Airports  
  
Clara Weasley waited impatiently, with her parents, in the long line of people, waiting to check their baggage on the plane. She let out a frustrated sigh and flicked her hair. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, hoping that when she opened them the queue would be diminished. No such luck! She groaned and cursed silently because they had to wait even longer. She heard a chuckle beside her and turned to face her father, Ron Weasley. He was a tall, well-built man, strong and fast. He was also very funny and had a good sense-of-humour. Clara gave him a glare that could have rivalled her mother's, Hermione. This just made Ron laugh even more. Clara stopped glaring at him when she realised it wasn't going to change his mood. "What's so funny?" she asked, already annoyed about the queue. "You", her benevolent father replied. "What's so funny 'bout me?" Clara demanded, disgruntled by his answer. "You're such a hippocrit!" Ron exclaimed. "What?!" The sixteen-year old red-head was getting more annoyed all the time. Ron looked at his daughter, his sapphire eyes sparkling, before answering. "Well, if I remember correctly, when we were driving from the hotel to the airport and we got stuck in that huge traffic jam, YOU were chiding ME about being impatient, when I started beeping the horn and cursing. NOW look at YOU, complaining about a long line of people and cursing and groaning. So I'll say it again. You're a hippocrit!" Mr Weasley had to try very hard not to laugh at his daughter's face. She was glaring at him the way her mother glared at him when she knew that he had won an argument. The likeness was uncanny. Clara tried to keep glaring at her father but she gave in quickly and broke down laughing instead. "I am a hippocrit, amn't I?" she laughed. "Yes, but you're a loveable hippocrit!" Ron said, ruffling his daughter's amber-coloured hair softly. Clara smiled that smile that reminded Ron so much of him. It was his own lop-sided grin that, when aimed at her, caused Hermione to melt, both now and at school. Ron, himself found it difficult to resist that charming smile radiating from his mischevious daughter. "You'll break hearts with that smile", he whispered. "Just as your father did!" Ron jumped. He turned to find his wife beaming down at both him and his daughter. He put his arm around her waist and whispered, teasingly "Did I break yours 'Mione?" Hermione grabbed her husband's hands and pressed them lightly with her own and said, "Yes, but the same smile and a few kind words mended it again." She smiled at Ron and kissed him quickly on the lips. Clara pushed her bag along the ground with her foot. The queue was moving much faster now and soon she and her parents had reached the top and were checking their bags onto the plane. When they had done this, they went to one of the cafés and had a bite to eat. Clara looked around eagerly at the shops surrounding the café in the busy airport. She had never been in a Muggle airport before. When they went on their holiday they'd taken a boat and now, on the way back, they were taking a plane. This was so they could experience both forms of Muggle transportation. Clara hadn't liked the boat trip. They'd run into a storm on the crossing and Clara was stuck in her cabin all the time because she felt so sick. The holiday itself wasn't that great either. They'd visited loads of Muggle museums and churches and Clara discovered that she was allergic to mulberries, the unpleasant way! All in all, a disastrous holiday! But Clara was looking forward to the journey on the plane. For one thing her mother told her that it would be much shorter than the voyage by sea. Also the idea of being among the clouds appealed very much to the young teenage witch. Hermione finished off her croissant and then went to the bookshop and bought three books. All Nancy Drew, Clara noticed. Her mother loved mystery stories and her favourites were the Nancy Drew series. She was now only missing one or two from her collection, after buying those three. Ron looked at his wife's purchases and let out a long sigh. "You never stop, do you?" he said, nodding at the books. "You know perfectly well that I never will, Ronald Weasley" Hermione replied. "There's always hope" Ron said cheekily, which earned him a playful slap on the wrist. "Uh! How dare you!" Hermione pretended to be offended. She returned to her books and Ron took out a muggle newspaper, looked at the unmoving figures in the photograph, muttered "Weird" and turned the page to read the articles inside. Clara looked at her watch. 5:36. The plane was leaving in an hour and a half. I have enough time to look around at the shops, she mused. She put her new suede, bag which she bought on holiday over her shoulder and started walking around. There were many interesting muggle shops in the airport and they sold a lot of nice things. Clara bought perfume, make-up, clothes and many pairs of shoes. She also bought a whole load of books, muggle magazines and as many sweets as she could afford! She had inherited her mother's intellect and her father's appetite and sweet tooth! She had no problem with money, seeing as her mother insisted that she learn about Muggles at home if she wasn't going to do Muggle Studies at school. Clara didn't really mind and actually found it interesting and had inherited her grandfather's fascination with Muggles! Of course, she would never admit to her mum that she liked it. Then she'd think Clara liked learning or something! Well, she did, but not the way Hermione did and it was only cool subjects like Defence Against the Dark Arts, Astronomy and (though her father would probably have a heart attack!) Potions. The rest was just mediocre. But some subjects were downright dull, like History of Magic. Stop thinking about school, you dumbass! It's still the holidays and you've got all your work done! Her 'Ron Weasley' attitude towards school kicked in and she left the old Scottish castle and came back to the Spanish airport, and it's all-English shopping court (it was placed there when the Spanish people realised that they'd make more money if tourists actually understood the prices of what they were buying!). Clara looked at her watch. 5:57. Bloody hell! I didn't spend that long shopping did I? She ran as fast as she could back to the café. Her parents were hurriedly stuffing books and newspapers into their bags and quickly pulling on their coats. "Hurry up Ron!" Hermione exclaimed as her husband fumbled with his jacket which was turned inside-out. "Relax 'Mione", he replied calmly, putting his now rightly turned jacket on. "We've still got half an hour." "Ron", Hermione said in a would-be-calm voice. "The plane LEAVES in half an hour but we have to board it NOW!" Ron threw his bag over his shoulder and began running towards the gate. "Right, come on so", he shouted over his shoulder. Hermione and Clara quickly followed. They reached the gate just as it was closing because it was on the other side of the airport. They arrived in the nick of time for their flight and were soon high up in the sky, among the clouds! Clara stared out of her window dreamily at them. These fluffy, figments of air and moisture. They looked like pieces of white candyfloss or fluffy sheep with no legs or faces. Clara felt a great urge to break the window and touch them but she knew that the amount of air at this altitude was too low so she stayed put. Besides, it was nice just to look at them passing by, occasionally forming funny-looking shapes. "Would you like a drink, Miss?" A friendly female voice cut into her reminiscing. Clara turned and looked at the speaker. She was a young woman with jet-black hair and brown eyes framed by elegant glasses. Clara smiled at her warmly and said,"No thank you, I'm fine." "Alright then, dear" said the air hostess, and she moved along with her trolley. Clara gazed out of the window again and felt a strange warmth take over her body as she followed the fleece-like puffs in the bright sky. Her mind became clear of thoughts and her eyelids began to droop. Clara's first instinct was to fight it off but she thought better of it and let sleep carry her away! ********************************************************************* "Clara. Clara honey, wake up." Ron stood over his daughter's seat, gently shaking her awake. "C'mon Clara, wake up" he said, softly. Clara rubbed her eyes and said groggily, "Where are we?" Her mother answered her. "We're home, dear." 


	2. Back To Diagon Alley

Chpt 2: Back To Diagon Alley  
  
DISCLAIMER: Own nothing except for what I made up  
  
It was two weeks after their Muggle holiday in Spain, and the Weasleys were travelling up to London. Clara was starting her seventh and final year at Hogwarts. She, like both of her parents before her, was in Gryffindor. They went up to London to purchase her schoolbooks, potion ingredients, equipment, etc. Her parents also bought her a DOGSTAR 2010, the fastest racing broom in Europe, as an early birthday present and because she was made Head Girl and Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Clara had acquired her father's obsession with Quidditch, though in a more minute form. She followed Quidditch and adored playing it but she didn't talk about it all the time or support a particular team. She just really, really liked it. They were not only in Diagon Alley to get Clara's school things. Ron and Hermione needed to get things for work as well. Ron worked for the Daily Prophet as a book critic. He was widely known for his fairness in his reviews and every book that received a good review from him was a bestseller. This made the Weasleys quite wealthy seeing as Ron got a raise for every five best selling books he reviewed! Hermione was doing well also. She was Head and Founder of her own organisation. She was well renowned for her work in The Magical Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Magical Creatures (MSPCMC). She had saved many creatures from wizards and muggles alike, and last year she received the Wizarding Award for Most Outstanding Achievements (WAMDA). Ron and Clara, and everybody else for that matter, were never prouder of her. "You deserve it, love" Ron had said. Clara grinned as she thought back to the wild party Fred and George threw that night. She chuckled as she remembered how her father had unwittingly accepted a Sugar Quill from George, and then, after eating it, could only imitate what the person who had spoken to him last had said. In their voice! He got a lot of physical abuse from over-sensitive people who thought they were being made fun of! Fred and George were rolling all over the place with laughter. "Imitater Quills" Fred had told Clara. "The eater can only imitate whoever spoke to him last." "Our latest invention" added George. Even at the age of 36 Ron was still a favourite target of the twins' jokes! But still, they didn't do it too often. Ron was still very tall and strong, and had a very quick temper! The twins weren't stupid! Clara smiled fondly as she thought of her favourite uncles. She'd never say it in case she hurt anyone's feelings, but Fred and George were her favourite uncles. They always made her laugh and were full of life and still getting up to mischief at the age of 39!  
  
"Let's see. I need a lot more parchment and quills and ink and.oh! I need a paperweight." Ron's voice brought Clara back down to earth. "What on earth do you need a paperweight for?" inquired Hermione. "Oh duh! For weighing down paper of course! Honestly Hermione, you of all people should know. It's a Muggle thing isn't it?" Ron replied. Hermione was breathing very quickly through her nose, trying to stifle her laughter. "A paperweight is a decoration Ron! People who work in offices put them on their desks to make them look more professional!" Ron went crimson and behind him Clara was bent over , holding her sides. "You're - clue - less - Dad!" she said between her gales of laughter. "Oh shut up Clara!" Ron snapped. "Don't talk to me like that" she replied, in mock anger but still giggling slightly. Ron stomped sulkily into Flourish and Blotts looking very much like a 6"5 ten year old child! Clara and Hermione followed him in, giggling quietly. They then proceeded to find Clara's books for seventh year. "Okay. I need 'The Standard Book of Spells Grade 7', 'Transfiguration: The Definitive Edition', 'The Nasty Book of Smelly Herbs' , 'Famous Quidditch Accidents Throughout History' - " "Nice try Clara", said her mother. "No mum. I do need it for History of Magic", Clara replied. Hermione snorted with laughter. "Since when did Binns teach anything in his classes other than the Goblin Rebellions." "Since never, Mum", Clara answered. "That's still all he teaches! But we've got a new teacher this year. Binns said he's taking a few hundred years off!" Clara explained. "Oh really, Clara dear." Hermione wasn't convinced. "Why won't you believe me?" her 17- year old daughter whined. Hermione looked at her closely and said "Because I know you too well and I know how much you want that book!" Clara handed her mother a long piece of yellow parchment with green writing on it. "Fine", she said. "If you don't believe me then you can check it for yourself." Hermione scanned through the list and sure enough there it was, 'FAMOUS QUIDDITCH ACCCIDENTS THROUGHOUT HISTORY' written in bold at the end. "I don't believe it!" she exclaimed. "Binns must be taking time off. He would never have set this book for the year." Clara smirked. "I told you!" she said. "Alright smart alec, you've made your point! Now let's get the rest of your books" Hermione retorted. They purchased Clara's books and found Ron looking at the Quidditch magazines. Hermione poked him in the back. "What?" he asked, turning to face her. "We have to go and meet the others now. Come on!" "Alright. I'm coming." The three of them left the shop and stepped out into the glorious morning sun. 


	3. Meeting and Greeting

Chpt 3: Meeting and Greeting  
  
DISCLAIMER: Own nothing except for what I made up  
  
Clara and her parents made their way to Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlour. There were a lot of people sitting outside the building in the blazing heat. "Oh great!" groaned Clara. "There's nowhere for us to sit now."  
  
But then she spotted a flash of silvery- blonde making its way through the crowd towards Clara and her parents. As it grew closer a face appeared. A beautiful, olive-skinned face with blue eyes and sparkling white teeth which formed a radiant smile, causing many passing boys to swoon. This person had to be part Veela!  
  
"Monique!" Clara shouted as she saw who the figure was. Then again it was hard to miss Monique. She was as tall as her father Bill in the traditional Weasley fashion, and silvery-blonde hair was not very common although it was a way of recognising another family, despised by most. But Monique had inherited her mother, Fleur's beautiful long flowing hair which looked almost white in the glistening sunlight.  
  
"Clara!" Monique replied as she ran towards her cousin. Her parents came up behind her with the rest of their children.  
  
"Hey midget!" Bill greeted, smiling fondly at his niece. "Hey grizzly!" Clara retorted grinning cheekily. Bill turned to Ron pretending to be offended. "When will your daughter get off slagging my hair?" he whined. "Maybe when you cut it?" his brother replied. Bill shrugged his shoulders. "In that case I'd better get used to the name!"  
  
While the two brothers continued chatting, the two sister-in-laws exchanged remarks on each other's clothing. "What gorrrgeous dress robes you 'ave 'Ermione!" "Why thank you Fleur! And I just love your scarf! Was it expensive?" "Oh no! Very cheap for Paris! It's ze latest fashion at ze moment."  
  
While their mothers carried on in this fashion, Clara and Monique compared their holidays.  
  
"Oh it was brilliant Clar!" exclaimed Monique. "We went shopping in Paris, Clara. PARIS!!! "We saw loads of cool clothes and perfume and jewellery and Dad nearly had a coronary when he saw the bill!"  
  
Clara tried hard not to smile. Bill have a coronary? she thought. Hahaha! I wish!  
  
"And the food! Oh my god Clara. You'd have been in paradise." Monique went on. "It was sooo good. (sigh) But so fattening. I don't know how many times I made myself throw up over there."  
  
"MONIQUE!!" roared Clara. Their parents stopped talking and looked at the two girls.  
  
"Is everything o.k. Clar?" Ron asked. "What?... Oh yeah. um. we were just talking about girl stuff Dad!" answered Clara. Ron quickly turned around, the tips of his ears going red. "It's o.k." he said. "I've a feeling that I don't want to know!"  
  
Clara brought Monique away from the four adults so they could talk. "What's up, Clar?" asked Monique jerking her arm away from her cousin's vice-like grip. "Why did you freak out like that?"  
  
Clara glared at Monique. "Why did I freak out?" she snarled. "I'll tell you why I freaked out! Do you know how serious this is? I thought you promised not to go bulimic on me?!!" Clara was furious.  
  
Monique took a strand of hair and started examining it, completely ignoring her companion's anger. "Take a chill pill Clara" she replied calmly. "Look it was only just that one time. It's not as if I'm gonna do it ALL the time."  
  
Clara was breathing heavily. "You better not and none of that diet crap either Monique! I don't want you getting ill on me." Clara said sharply.  
  
"Hey you two!" The girls turned to see their cousin Bridget coming towards them, her short curly jet-black hair shining in the sunlight. Her emerald green eyes sparkled happily. "What are you talking about?" she asked. "Oh nothing!" answered Monique quickly, wishing to avoid another lecture on her eating habits.  
  
"Monique's bulimic, Bridget!" Clara exclaimed. "WHAT??!!!" Bridget was raging. "I'm not bulimic, alright?" Monique screamed. "Just 'cos I did it once it doesn't make me a bulimic!" She was getting really annoyed with her cousins. What right had they to comment on her eating habits? Just because they both played Quidditch and Clara had a fast metabolism! She could comment on a few of their habits!  
  
"Why did you do an idiotic thing like that in the first place?" Bridget asked, straining to keep her voice down. "I met a load of girls on holiday who do it and they were talking about how great it was and how I should try it, so I did" explained Monique.  
  
Clara groaned and shook her head. "I thought you knew better than that, Mon!" "I do" said an annoyed Monique. "Look it was only once. I'm not going to do it again!" "You better not" warned Bridget. "And none of that diet cra-" "Uh Bridge? I already said that before you came" interrupted Clara. "Oh. Well good. Great minds think alike."  
  
Monique tossed her behind her angrily. "Look are you two quite finished lecturing me?" she demanded. Clara and Bridget looked at her carefully before saying, at exactly the same time "If we catch you doing it again you can say goodbye to all your beauty spells and potions!"  
  
Monique shuddered. She always got creeped out when they did that. It was like they could read each other's minds or something. Telepathic. That was the word for it. Freaky! "Ok! I get it!" she yelled. "Now can we just drop it please?" "Alright Mon. We'll leave you alone" replied Bridget. "Yeah" agreed Clara. "Thanks girls" Monique said.  
  
"Hey! We'd better get back to Fortescue's or else all the ice-cream will be eaten!" exclaimed Clara. "Well come on then! Move it!" cried Bridget. The three girls ran pushing each other back to the parlour. 


End file.
